


And To All, A Good Night

by NoelleAngelFyre



Series: Twelve Fics of Christmas 2020 [13]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Barry Allen is a softie for the Rogues, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, ColdFlash heavily implied, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Leonard & Lisa Snart Sibling Feels, Leonard Snart being a total brat who loves messing with his Scarlet Speedster, Male-Female Friendship, Sequel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, snark & banter, suggestive content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleAngelFyre/pseuds/NoelleAngelFyre
Summary: “I am, and will always be, in your corner.  You, Mick, and Len.” It feels half a taboo to say their names, but at this point, he feels like he’s earned the right (at least a little bit), “Even when we don’t see eye to eye.  Even when I disagree or don’t see the world from your view.  …Even when your brother is skulking around my bedroom and helping himself to my personal things,” he elevates his voice at the ceiling with a pronounced eye-roll; he feels Lisa’s shoulders shaking a little, like she’s trying to not burst into giggles, “I am in your corner, I’m on your side, and I’ve got your back.”_______________________________________________________________Sequel to "Something to Treasure (Something We Can't Hold)" which finds Barry Allen sharing the season of giving with his Rogues...whether he fully agrees to it or not.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Lisa Snart, Barry Allen/Leonard Snart (implied), Lisa Snart & Leonard Snart, Lisa Snart & Mick Rory
Series: Twelve Fics of Christmas 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043328
Comments: 7
Kudos: 61





	And To All, A Good Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlahSatane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlahSatane/gifts).



> This was a request from BlahSatane, who wanted a sequel story to feature Lisa thanking Barry for her little Christmas miracle and Len taking Barry up on his invitation. You will want to read "Something to Treasure (Something We Can't Hold)" first, just to fully appreciate the context.
> 
> I fully admit to writing this in like...an hour (if that) so any mistakes made are 100% mine. This is just a bit of extra Christmas fluff to close out this crazy year.

In hindsight, the silent night and peace on earth thing was a little too good to be true, but given the antics Barry is used to from these three, finding Lisa in front of the Christmas tree – a portrait of angelic grace highlighted in shades of gold – is lovely enough a sight for him to ignore the whole ‘breaking and entering’ part of this equation.

“So,” he leans against the framed entry with a comfortable air that says he is _way_ too casual about people breaking into his (cop) foster father’s house these days, especially around the holidays, “find anything that suits your fancy, or is this a social visit to include further commentary on how I can’t keep my identity a secret from anyone?”

“Unlike some people,” Lisa tosses her head in a way that’s supposed to be haughty but only adds to the angelic part of her visage when the gold lights dance across a tumble of hazel curls, “ _I_ don’t commit major felonies on Christmas. It’s terrible form.”

“You’re a shining example for the rest of us.” Barry teeters lazily on the steps for a minute, then joins her in the family room; after brief consideration, his eyes drop to her neckline with a shy grin, “Can I see?”

Her entire face lights up, every bit a child basking in the joys of Christmas morning, as she tugs the jacket zipper down to mid-bust and reveals a bright gleam of gold against her skin. The pendant rests delicately above the modest cut of her blouse with a air of pride to finally be restored to its rightful place.

“Not that you need me to say it, but I will anyway.” Barry nods, overwhelmingly pleased with the sight, “It suits you.”

For a moment, she beams brighter than the Christmas tree, then tucks a loose curl aside in a shy gesture he would never have associated with her. After all, the Snart siblings are not widely regarded for their modesty. “Look, I don’t do this…you know, touchy-feely emotion stuff,” Barry makes a point to hide a little smirk at her word-choice, “but…” another pause, then she clears her throat and continues, “…you don’t know what this means to me.”

First instinct is to hug her, to soothe away the crease of emotion that bubbles up under her skin and pools in her eyes and threatens to tug the corners of her mouth down because grief doesn’t belong on her face, but once again Barry taps down on the urge. He battled it before, when push came to shove in a tense moment between Lisa and his team, the question of trust hanging thick in the air, and a single motion revealed proof of a battleground youth that left scars inside and out. He resisted the urge then too, mostly because he didn’t feel he had any right, not when his previous words involved cutting remarks on her brother’s trustworthiness.

Apparently his brain and body aren’t operating on the same wavelength, because when he blinks and looks down, his arms are caught in awkward suspension, like he’d started to reach for her half a minute before his brain pulled the brakes. Lisa is staring at his hands with a clear air of trepidation, and Barry’s heart breaks a little at the sight. She looks very much like she would like to test out this foreign concept known as physical affection, but too many years of her life have seen the crueler things that hands can do.

“…can I?” he clears his throat, “That is, may I hug—?”

Lisa throws herself at him with far less delicacy than he’s seen her move, but the awkwardness of her embrace only swells fondness in his chest. She lets him make minor adjustments, mostly to fix the way her gun is digging into his right side, then settles more comfortably into the shape of his chest and arms. “Is…is this…okay?”

She sounds embarrassed to ask and Barry can’t help but chuckle. “It’s fine. Perfect, actually.”

The sigh of relief tickles his collar. “…Thank you.” Lisa whispers, “For…well…”

_Everything_ , but he doesn’t need her to say it. Not out loud. “Since we’re hanging on board the touchy-feely train for a bit,” he lets her step back, no doubt unsure how long a hug is allowed before it outstays the welcome, “there is something I want to say to you.”

Her neatly sculpted eyebrows lift slowly as he settles them both on the couch. “If you’re going to propose to me,” she says, with that shy little grin that people use when they’re trying to pretend they don’t feel as out-of-place as they really do, “I’ll have to insist you buy me dinner first.”

“Sorry, the gold you’re wearing is all I’ve got for this holiday season.” Barry squeezes her hands, willing that his own might stop shaking sometime this year, “I just…this has been on my mind for a while and I think it’s time I just say it.”

The stilted grin wilts a little, replaced by something impossibly fragile. Something he wants to hold close to his chest and protect until the day he dies.

“I am, and will always be, in your corner. You, Mick, and Len.” It feels half a taboo to say their names, but at this point, he feels like he’s earned the right (at least a little bit), “Even when we don’t see eye to eye. Even when I disagree or don’t see the world from your view. …Even when your brother is skulking around my bedroom and helping himself to my _personal things_ ,” he elevates his voice at the ceiling with a pronounced eye-roll; he feels Lisa’s shoulders shaking a little, like she’s trying to not burst into giggles, “I am in your corner, I’m on your side, and I’ve got your back.”

Lisa’s eyes are wet but have never looked a more radiant shade of blue. “…Always?”

“Always.” He kisses her hands, lets the moment linger a bit more, then calmly stands up and heads for the stairs, “But having _your_ back doesn’t mean I won’t drop-kick your brother on his self-righteous _ass_ into the snowbank if he doesn’t get out of my room in the next five seconds!!”

“You extended the invitation, kid,” comes down the upper hallway, drawl wholly unconcerned that Barry might follow through on his threat.

“To the hot cocoa mix in the kitchen cabinet, _not_ my bedroom which is in the _opposite direction_ of the kitchen!” a door bangs open upstairs, followed by an indignant squawk of, “That is _PRIVATE_!!!”

Lisa studies the ceiling with an unapologetic smirk, dragging her gaze away only to meet Mick’s shape towering at her right, “…Where did you get the whiskey?”

“Booze cabinet.” Mick tips the glass down his throat in the same beat as he hands her one filled with wine, “Figured this was more your speed.”

“Aww, Mick…you know me so well.” Settled very much like a queen on her throne, she folds one leg over the other, sips her wine (excellent vintage), and resumes studying the ceiling, “Call it now – how long before that bed starts getting a different use?”

Mick snorts, then turns back to the kitchen (no doubt for a refill), “Thirty minutes, tops.”

“Fifteen. Bet you a hundred bucks and that gold-plated lighter you fell in love with at _Bennington’s_.”

“You’re on.” He calls, sounding very much like his head is buried in the liquor cabinet. Probably finding a few other things to suit his fancy that will be rehomed before the night is out.

There’s a rather offensive _thud_ from above, and then, in a tone that can be heard all the way in Australia, Barry’s voice breaks the lulling peace of Christmas carols on the stereo system:

“ _No_ , we will _NOT_ be putting it to _better use_!!”

**Author's Note:**

> I will leave it to your sweetly twisted imaginations as to just what treasures Len uncovered in Barry's room. ;)
> 
> Merry Christmas, one and all!!


End file.
